


Moira Files

by Bishoujo_Dojo



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackwatch, Blackwatch Era, Blackwatch Moira O'Deorain, Blackwatch Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, F/F, F/M, M/M, Omnics, Pre-Fall of Overwatch, Recruitment
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-05-13 11:18:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19250137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bishoujo_Dojo/pseuds/Bishoujo_Dojo
Summary: This is a story that takes you through Moira's time in Blackwatch leading to the eventual fall of Overwatch. I will explore who she is as a character and her complicated romance with Angela Ziegler.





	1. Recruitment: A Deal with the Devil

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: This fan-fiction will describe violence, sex, and other mature content. I will put notes above each chapter for their appropriate warnings. Enjoy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief introduction to Moira O'Deorain and the woman she was in the years after her exile from the scientific community. This takes place on the day of her recruitment into Blackwatch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be apart of a a greater series that goes through Moira's time at Overwatch. I hope to really explore who she is as a character and the relationships she shares with other members of Overwatch. This will lead eventually to a romance with Mercy and there will be a fair amount of content dedicated to that in the future.  
> I have written fan fiction for many years but have NEVER shared it with others so comments and suggestions are appreciated. I am a artist by trade so check back to see when I have added art content to accompany my chapters.  
> Special thanks to my friend Photinusp for helping me proof read.  
> Thank you

The sky was blanketed with clouds, swollen with rain as they ominously paced across the sky. It was a particularly cold day for September in Dublin. The city was quiet. Tourism slowed down significantly over the past decade from the disaster that was the Omnic Crisis, and many of the natives themselves were missing from the historical city. With any war, eager youths readily signed their lives into service, and what seemed like the fate of all humanity at stake encouraged even more to flee for the battlefield. It left Dublin half the city it once was. 

 

Moira peered out the window of the old pub she often found herself in, Cobble’s Cross; a little hole wedged a mile down from Trinity College. As she peered out the cold glass she reflected on her inability to connect with people but in turn how much she missed them. In honesty, she had felt alone long before the city became a ghost of its former days. She published her infamous paper at 25, the paper she thought would bring respect, recognition, prestige, but instead brought shame, isolation, and a tarnished reputation. Now, at 31, she lost much hope of anything, especially for her career.

 

Moira sighed heavily and looked down into the darkness of her whiskey tainted coffee. Every time she thought of the articles and forums disavowing and questioning her work it left a bad taste in her mouth. She was bitter, but left behind anger many years ago. 

 

Moira continued her work despite it all, though it was hard on her salary as a secondary school teacher. The cost of her rabbits needs alone consumed most of her weekly budget, and her ailing and dependent father took what remained.  Alzheimer’s had taken most of his mind now and there was little of the man she once knew. Her father’s decaying mind served as a motivation in the continuation of her work. With better genetics he would have been spared from such a miserable fate. He was a dead man walking, and Moira knew that science would have been his only savior. 

 

The ginger haired woman sat hunched on her wooden pub chair. Moira had an innately intimidating presence about her. She had sharp androgynous features, a towering stature of 6’5, unearthly mispaired eyes, and long bony hands accompanied by her sharp nails. Her overall self is what she contributed to the tendency others had to keep her at bay. In her own way, she preferred it, the role of the observer over the role of subject. 

 

Moira leaned back in her chair and straightened her tie. A twinge of anxiety had been eating at her for most of the day. She glanced at the stack of ungraded essays on the table she brought in vain to read through. But it wasn't work that was eating her, there was something else, something ominous. 

 

“Moira” a thick Dubliner accent appeared from behind, bringing her out of her thoughts. When she turned she was greeted by a familiar face, the pub owner, Connor. “Sister Fiona rang, she wants to see ya down at Our Lady. Once you’ve finished grading those papers, of course.” He laughed, knowing full well she hadn't touched them once they left the confines of her briefcase. Moira turned back in her chair and shook her head.

 

“I think we are both aware that will not be happening today,” she said as she stood to her feet and began collecting her papers.

 

“I’m just giving you a hard time, love. You seem distracted today, don't worry about the tab -- drinks on me.” As Moira pushed her seat back into place, he gave her a firm pat on the shoulder. Moira cracked a half smile; they had built a small friendship in the past few years. Connor was not a man of science and did not judge her for her views, and she spent many a night drunk in the pub spouting them at him, in not so layman terms. He always listened and laughed when she got too red from the mixture of alcohol and passion.

 

“Thank you,” she replied tenderly, “I'll be back tomorrow.” Moira buttoned up her old peacoat, and with briefcase in hand, headed towards the door.

 

Her destination was a place she spent many years in: Our Lady of Sorrows was a Catholic church known best for its more progressive view on Omnic and human coexistence. Moira herself did not subscribe to the concept of higher intelligence; she believed in science as the only real truth of this world. Science was fact and the only route to the understanding and betterment of mankind. Religion was for those who feared progression, for those who wanted someone to take control. Science made Moira feel in control, not weak and afraid of some almighty invisible presence that determined your fate. 

 

With science, she could determine her fate.

  
  


The air outside was wet and fresh, and like the calm before the storm, the city was quiet. What could Sister Fiona want? She pondered as she walked through the once bustling streets of her childhood. Fiona, besides Connor, was one of the regular presences in her life who she would consider a friend. They talked on the phone regularly, and Fiona was at the house every other Sunday to read from the Bible, in Gaelic, to her father. Before his mind had escaped into the darkness, he was a hard working laborer who was righteously devout. He was proud of his Catholic Irish heritage and would turn into a banshee of a man if questioned for his beliefs. When she was younger, Moira always held a false face of faith for him, but once he could no longer recognize her it was easy to stop pretending. She respected her father greatly however different their views were; he raised her alone and worked tirelessly, some days until his hands bled, to keep a roof over their heads. It was why she asked Fiona to read to him, giving some normality of his former life.  

 

Moira arrived after a brisk walk, but the anxiety did not leave her at the pub. Instead, it lingered. Once she entered the heavy wooden doors of the historical church, a flood of memories overwhelmed her senses. It made her feel like a child again: the smell of the wood pews, the dimly flickering scentless candles, and the old books whose spines barely clung to their foundations from years of use. She placed her briefcase by the door and walked down the main aisle, gingerly caressing the edges of the pews. It had been years since she had been back, but a smile rose from the corner of her mouth. Life was simpler in the hours she spent here, but in its own comforting way, confirmed that science was the only truth she needed.

 

“Moira,  _ a leanbh _ , you came quicker than I anticipated.  _ Go raibh maith agat. _ ” A soft Omnic voice almost sang through the air. The voice belonged to Sister Fiona. Fiona stood at the end of the aisle in her typical white robes, gripping a large and decorative Bible that looked heavy from its thickness. She was an older model of Omnic, but it was difficult to tell by the way her metal parts shined from the vibrant light reflected through the towering stained glass windows that framed her mechanical body. Moira always found it a mystery how Fiona ended up in the position she was in. Omnics were sexless beings, yet here  _ she _ stood in such a gendered role as Sister in a Catholic Church, a bigger irony the longer she thought of it. But even Moira couldn't deny her soft and caring nature, or perhaps program, for it did give her a distinctly feminine and almost maternal presence. Sister Fiona walked forward until she stood in front of her tall and bony counterpart; the Omnic herself was small but almost angelic in her calm stillness. Her cold and mechanical hand reached to caress Moira’s narrow cheek.

 

“It is a true gift to see you here in God’s house once more.” The white glowing lights on Fiona’s face pulsed as she spoke. Moira chuckled under her breath as she grabbed the cold hand that reminded her of the lifelessness of the Omnic in front of her.

 

“You know very well you are the reason why I came.”

 

She knew if Fiona could make an expression it would probably be of disappointment. For many years, starting around when Moira left home for college, Fiona would call to remind her of her readings and to talk scripture. Even now, the Sister spoke of faith with Moira during their weekly talks, and would always suggest she sit in on her readings to her father. Moira never gave much reply when Fiona brought up such things, instead changing the subject to talk about her current research.

 

“What did you need?” Moira asked, softly cupping Fiona’s free hand affectionately.

 

“I have someone I want you to meet,” the Omnic hummed.

 

If only a moment after, a man dressed in all black immaculately appeared at the other end of the aisle, staring directly at Moira. His intense hazel eyes locked on her like a hawk as he began to walk towards them. He was Latino in descent, tall but still shorter than Moira, strongly built. His face was scarred but still handsome in its own rugged way, a well groomed goatee wrapping his masculine features. 

 

“Moira O’Deorain,” he said, making Moira’s eyebrow arch at his stark American accent. “You’re much taller than I expected.” His comment on her height was enough to annoy her.

 

“And you are?”

 

Fiona stood in polite form between the two. She gestured slowly to the man before Moira. “This is Commander Reyes, of Overwatch.”

 

“Overwatch.” Moira practically snorted at him as she crossed her arms. “What did I do to offend the UN this time?” Overwatch was one of the main organizations to openly disavow Moira’s work, ruining her name and career alike. Even before Overwatch tarnished Moira’s reputation, she thought their ideas towards science were stagnant, and like religion, held back by fear. 

 

The man smirked, as if he expected her response. “You can call me Gabriel. I did indeed orchestrate this meeting to talk to you about your work, but mainly,” he paused, taking in Moira’s look of disgust, ”to make you an offer.” 

 

Moira, arms still locked in front of her, was unsure if she could look down her nose any further at the cocky man. She glanced at Fiona questioningly, and the Omnic simply nodded back. When it was clear Moira was not going to offer a response, Reyes began pacing back and forth in the small aisle.

 

“I do in fact work for Overwatch, but in a special covert ops division called Blackwatch. Of course, we’re affiliated with Overwatch, but Blackwatch is  _ my  _ project and what happens in my division  _ stays in my division. _ ” He was militaristic in his tone, firm and unwavering. “I’ve read your work, Dr. O’Deorain. It's incredible.” Moira looked slightly surprised at the praise. “Overwatch, they were fools for stopping your progress. I can’t change the mistakes they’ve made but I can offer you a new beginning.”

 

Gabriel stopped his pacing to look her firmly in the eyes. “I want to hire you as my advisor on genetics and for you to continue your research under Blackwatch.”

 

Moira’s arm loosened. In no universe did she expect this, her mind felt clogged and she could say nothing. 

 

“You would have your own facilities, your own team, and you would be fully funded.” 

 

“What’s the catch?” she said in disbelief. 

 

“No catch, no leash, and no one to report to but  _ me _ .” He lingered on the last word.

 

Moira looked again at Fiona, as if to be reassured that this was real, that this wasn't some joke at her expense. The past six years had been hell for Moira. She was nothing in the scientific community, her qualifications and credentials were taken from her; she was just lucky enough to have landed the job at a secondary school. Her life was so mundane watching after her father, grading papers, and performing what little experiments she could afford from the confines of her childhood home. Fiona’s lights slightly glowed as to indicate what would be a smile and she gently patted her Bible, letting Moira know this offer was real. Moira looked back at him.

 

“What of my students. My father?”

 

“Blackwatch will take care of all loose ends, unpaid bar tabs included.” He smiled devilishly, reaching out his hand.  “What do you say?”

 

Moira couldn't help but feel a little uneasy at the man’s statement. It all seemed too good to be true, but if he knew as much as her unpaid tabs, this offer was not false.  For a split moment, she thought maybe there was a God, and maybe he did pity her.

 

She extended her long bony hand to clasp around her new employer’s. “Moira, at your side.” 


	2. A New Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moira arrives at Overwatch the night of her recruitment. She is introduced to her new home while reflecting on the one she left behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and sweet. Originally I wanted to produce these weekly but I do not think I want this project to have any pressure. I have much more to write but it will come in its own time. Suggestions, comments, and encouragement always welcome.  
> Special thanks to my friend Photinusp for helping me proof read.

_ It all happened so fast. _ Moira reflected on it as she sat in a military aircraft across from the man she just met hours prior. During their ride, the aircraft jolted and shifted several times, making her feel increasingly uneasy. The whirlwind of events that manifested within the past few hours already made her nervous. Moira packed up the life she knew and was now flying to a new one, in a country she had never been to, all for an organization she resented.

 

The ride from Ireland to Switzerland was heavy with silence. Moira sat opposite of Reyes in the main body of the aircraft, and she had buckled herself in tightly. As they flew through the stormy clouds, an abrupt jolt of turbulence made Moira grip the nearest object to her with one hand, the other her at her chest.

 

“You alright, Dr. O’Deorain?” Reyes chuckled at her, seemingly unfazed as he sat like a rock. Moira glanced up at him briefly before looking down to her feet for stability, still gripping tightly with both hands.

 

“I don't like flying,” she said, nauseous.   

 

“You’ll get over it,” he smiled mockingly. “But I can’t say I’m surprised. You seem like a woman who likes her feet on the ground.”

 

Moira ignored his childish poking, curtly choosing to switch the topic of conversation to keep her mind off the flight. “What am I to expect upon arrival?”

 

Gabriel leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Once we land, I’ll escort you to your private quarters. You should rest as much as you can tonight. Tomorrow, you’re meeting the team and I’ll show you around the facilities.  _ Your  _ facilities.“

 

Moira loosened her grip on her chest.

 

“I think you’ll like what you have waiting for you. I’ve invested a lot of money into you already, O’Deorain. You won’t regret accepting my offer.”

 

A loud ring echoed through the aircraft, signalling their landing. Moira sighed in relief knowing they had finally reached their destination. She didn't know how to reply to Reyes and found the noise to be a welcomed interruption to their conversation.

 

***

 

Once landed, Reyes was the first to stand, offering a hand up from Moira’s seat. She accepted the offer and stood to her feet. The side of the aircraft opened, letting a flood of cold night air fill the aircraft. Moira was immediately hit with a shiver as the cool Swiss air reached her. 

She followed  behind Reyes as they exited the aircraft, and her eyes widened at the scale of the buildings in front of them. This was Overwatch, the headquarters of humanity’s international efforts against the Omnic War. Not in a million years did Moira think she would be standing here, looking onward at Overwatch, standing tall and sprawling like a city. Reyes was greeted by a few men in uniform who exchanged words quickly before grabbing their possessions and running ahead of them. Moira walked beside Reyes as they made their way into the facilities. 

 

Inside, the sights and sounds of the facility were overstimulating. It didn't matter that it was the middle of the night, the whole base seemed to be awake and working. Personnel hurried past her and Reyes, scurrying from room to room. They passed countless hallways and floors before eventually making their way across, to a quieter building connected by a bridge. It stood smaller than the rest of the buildings around Moira, but it maintained a commanding and ominous presence.

 

“I’ll arrange to have someone give you a tour of the base this week.” Reyes spoke to Moira while typing a code into the entrance deck, which was heavily guarded. “This is Blackwatch’s headquarters. Nobody but Blackwatch personnel are allowed access to this building.''

 

Reyes looked over his shoulder at Moira with a stern and frightening look. “Nobody but Blackwatch. Understood?”

 

“Understood.” The confidentiality made her suspicious, but Moira stood obediently.

 

The doors slid open and Reyes escorted Moira to the elevator nearby, leading them to the top of the small building. It was a floor that Moira could only assume was a residential space. Each door they passed seemed to have its own flare, personalized with doormat and or decorative wreaths. She found it charming that such a stiff and sterile place allowed for pleasures like this, however simple they were. 

 

“These are your quarters. You’ll find your possessions already inside, and the keys to the building are on the table. I’ll be back at 0600 to collect you.” At the end of the hall, they were greeted by a grey and unfancied door. Gabriel unlocked the door with a swipe of a retractable key fixed to his belt. “Rest well tonight, Dr. O’Deorain. We have an important day tomorrow.”

 

With that, he was gone.

 

***

 

As the mechanical door slid shut behind Reyes, Moira took this first moment alone to let out a long and needed sigh in her new dwelling. 

 

The floor plan was open but well designed, perfect for a single person. To her left was a queen sized bed accompanied by sleek shelving and two minimalist nightstands. Her personal belongings were at the foot of the bed, waiting to be unpacked. To her right was a small kitchen with polished dark granite countertops, which also acted as a bar that had two tucked stools. The center of the apartment was open and could be used as a living room or workspace. Save for the wall attached to the door, Moira was surrounded by glass walls, giving her a spectacular view Overwatch and the mountains that surrounded them. The bright overpowering moonlight and artificial lights of the base mixed, and the headquarters looked beautiful.

Beside her at the bar, Moira found a lone remote. She took it in her hands and studied it, pressing its largest button. A small holographic orb appeared, floating over the remote and pulsing with light.

 

_ “Hello and welcome to your new accommodations here at Overwatch. We are privileged to have you on our team. I am your personal in-home assistant. For service, please use your in-home remote or by saying ‘SANDRA’. You can request laundry service, cleaning service, food service, and customize your in home appliances. The time is currently 1:25 A.M. How can I assist, Dr. O’Deorain?”  _

 

Moira arched an eyebrow at the technology. “Nothing. Thank you, Sandra.” 

 

The little orb disappeared, and Moira placed the remote back on the counter. She ran her hand through her greasy hair and caught a whiff of body odor that accumulated during her travels; Moira was always a nervous sweater, and the last 24 hours had been nothing but one anxiety to the next. She was tired but a bathing was much needed. She made her way to what she expected to be the washroom, which flanked the kitchen.

 

Inside was, like the rest of the apartment, a clean and modern design. Moira took off her clothing and tossed them carelessly in a corner before entering the shower. Once the water hit Moira’s skin, she relaxed entirely. She began ridding herself of any stress, using what bathing products were provided by Overwatch. 

 

When finished, Moira stepped out of the shower, reaching for the towels neatly folded on the rack.

 

***

 

“Sandra, lights off.” Moira had rifled through her old and worn personal bags for a fresh pair of underwear and a tank top. She laid down on her new and foreign bed; her hair still wet, but she was too exhausted to care.

 

“ _ Oíche mhaith _ , Dr. O’Deorain.” The computer spoke as the glass walls dimmed, shielding Moira from the outside light and turning off what few were on inside. Moira half smiled at the computer’s rather good Gaelic.

 

Moira turned on her side, staring at the emptiness of her room. Left alone, she thought of her father.

 

***

 

Moira collected her few belongings and _ went to her father’s room. He sat in his wheelchair, in front of a window peering out into old Dublin. Her eyes never left her father’s aged and expressionless face, his glassy green eyes unmoving. He was thin and pale. Wearing his signature tweed hat, his bushy mustache long ago turned white, classic characteristics of his. Just like her, he had many sharp features, but had become more rounded and sunken in with age. Though he was old and frail, Moira still saw the firey redhead from her youth. She kneeled in front of him and took his old brittle hands in hers.  _

 

_ «Father,» she spoke in Gaelic, «I will be leaving tonight. I have been given an opportunity from an influential group. They care about my work. They’re willing to give me another chance.» She pressed her forehead to their cupped hands. «I won't be around as much, but I promise you will be taken care of.»' _

 

_ Footsteps broke Moira’s intimate moment with her father. It was Reyes, his arms crossed as he waited impatiently by the door. Moira peered at him over her father’s shoulder, resenting Reyes for witnessing and disrupting her like this. Still, Moira kissed her father’s hands before rising to her feet. _

 

_ «I’ll call you soon.» She cupped the back of his head to kiss his forehead softly, taking in his scent one last time. Moira wished he could understand her; that he could comfort and encourage her on this new journey, but this was reality. She had to face the unexpected without him.«Goodbye, Father.» _

 

 Moira laid in bed, recalling the moment with equal parts heartache and heavy guilt. She did not know how many more years he had left. But she tried to think this was what her father would have wanted, for Moira to tread her own path and make him proud. 

 

Tomorrow would be a new day, the first day of this new life. She closed her eyes.


	3. A Change of Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moira meets Commander Jack Morrison, while also learning some unexpected news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant for this to be a chapter where she meets the Blackwatch team as well but thought this needed to be a stand alone. The next chapter should be longer and more fun.

Moira gazed out the window to a new and fresh sight of the Overwatch base, basked in glorious sunlight. She made sure she was up early enough to make herself presentable before Reyes collected her:  Moira slicked her hair back in typical fashion, pairing it with a long sleeve black button up secured with a white tie and form fitting black slacks. Today, she would meet the rest of the Blackwatch team;  individuals, she only assumed, who were also hand picked by Reyes. Moira was confident in her ability and her work, and could only wonder what other kinds of ‘specialists’ she would be working aside.

 

Reyes arrived promptly at 6AM, Moira greeted him at the door. 

 

“Good morning, Commander.” 

 

“Good morning, Dr. O’ Deorain.” Reyes greeted her with a brief but serious expression, and without hesitation, turned to leave the hall.  “There’s a small change in plans,” he continued, and Moira followed besides him at a hurried pace. 

 

“Before you meet the rest of the team, I need to introduce you to someone.” They entered the elevator, and Reyes turned towards Moira with a look of intensity that took her aback. Moira cocked an eyebrow as the elevator doors locked in front of them.

 

“His name’s Commander Jack Morrison. He learned about my trip to Dublin and wants to meet you. I’ll be frank, he doesn’t approve of my decision to hire you.” Reyes turned away from Moira, standing squarely in front of the elevator doors.. “But he has no power. Just influence.” The elevator reached the bottom floor, and Reyes ushered her out. “I do the talking. You speak when spoken to. Understood, Dr. O’Deorain?”  Reyes lead them down a sterile hallway, and Moira followed by his side. “I can assure we make a favorable impression on him.” 

 

“Understood.” She knew not everyone at the base would value her work like Reyes did. After all, Moira was in the heart of Overwatch, the organization that ruined her in the first place.

 

***

 

Moira and Reyes stopped at an industrial door, decorated only by a golden name imprinted at the center. It read Strike Commander Jack Morrison. Reyes gave the door a few firm knocks, and it slid open without hesitation.. 

 

Inside was a clean and mundane looking office. A large black desk in the middle was covered in paperwork and stacks of large files, with a small photo and plant next to the computer. Behind its contents was a man leaning back in his chair. He was a classic sort of handsome, with deep blue eyes, icy blonde hair, and a square jaw that matched his build. Undoubtedly, this was Strike Commander Morrison.

 

“Gabriel. Nice seeing you.” Morrison’s thick Midwest American accent rang in the air. Even his voice was handsome, heroic, and strong. He sounded genuine, an unexpected start to the grim air Reyes had introduced Morrison with.  

 

“Morning, Commander Morrison. You wanted to see me.”  Reyes stood near the door, militaristic and cold, his arms behind his back in a dominant stance. Moira stood slightly behind her patron, observing and staying quiet, as Reyes requested. 

 

Jack rose from his chair and came around to greet Reyes with a warm tap on his stiff shoulder. “You know how I feel about you referring to me as  _ Commander Morrison. _ ” he smiled warmly, seemingly ignoring that anyone else was in the room but him and the other man.

 

“You requested to meet my newest recruit. This is Dr. O’Deorain. My new field medic.” Reyes budged away from the overly familiar Jack and cleared his throat, gesturing to Moira. She glanced questioningly at Reyes, and Jack turned his attention to her, transitioning from a warm demeanor to one of power and position. 

 

“Dr. Moira O’Deorain,” Jack echoed. She could hear his distrust. He took a few steps back and leaned against his desk. “I’m sure you're aware of where Overwatch formerly stood about your work. Made sure to read it myself, of course, soon as I learned Gabe hired you. ” He crossed his arms “Can’t say I would’ve welcomed you under my watch, but it’s not my choice to make. Just surprised you’re transitioning from geneticist to field medic. The battlefield is very different from a laboratory"

 

Moira could hear Reyes’ breath as he began to speak, but she interrupted him, smiling curtly. “I find this new opportunity a welcome challenge to my specific talents. Genetics are the foundations of life, and what better way than to use my knowledge to help the men and women fighting for that very life?”

 

“Dr. O’Deorian will be a valuable asset to my team, I assure you.” Reyes stepped closer to Morrison. “She’ll hold my life and my death in her hands. I don’t take that lightly.”

 

Moira could not see Reyes’ face, but watched as Morrison was transfixed on it. There seemed to be more there than she would learn in this brief meeting; it was a strange dynamic, a mixture of professional and personal. As the two men lingered, looking at each other, she felt invisible. 

 

Morrison stood straight and inched closer to Reyes. “Didn’t think you would, Gabriel.” His eyes flickered briefly to Moira. “I’ll make sure she has adequate training with Ana and Dr. Ziegler.” 

 

“I’ll consider it, but I don’t think it will be necessary. If you don’t have any further questions, Morrison, I’d like to conclude this meeting and introduce Dr. O’Deorain to the rest of the team.” Reyes ignored what familiar ground Morrison was attempting to establish. 

 

“If you’re so eager... then yes, you’re free to leave.” He sounded disappointed and made his way back to his desk chair. “Nice to meet you, Dr. O’Deorain.” He made no eye contact as he began reaching for his stack of paperwork. “I’ll put faith in Gabriel’s trust in your performance.”

 

“You as well, Commander Morrison.” she bowed and turned with Reyes as they exited the room.

 

***  

 

Inside, Moira was fuming, but Reyes and Moira walked silently back to the elevator. Once the doors slid shut once more, Moira couldn’t help but burst. 

 

“When were you going to tell me? That I am to be a field medic?” She spoke pointedly, staring sternly at Reyes.  “I’m not sure if you are aware, but I am no healer of wounds! I do not even study practical medicine! Most importantly, when did you think would be a good time to tell me that I would be on the battlefield, Reyes?”  she scoffed. “This is not what I agreed to.”

 

Reyes took in Moira’s anger quietly before unleashing his own. Even if he was smaller than her, he pressed her into the corner of the elevator with a dominant and forceful energy, staring accusingly at her as if she were a child. “You agreed to be under  _ my  _ watch, under  _ my  _ supervision, so you will be  _ my  _ soldier. I’m taking a risk on you, O’Deorain, a big one, and if you don’t like it I can send you back to Dublin where you will have  _ nothing _ , receive  _ nothing _ , and  _ be _ nothing.”

 

Moira did not look away from him, a fire between them. She slapped his pointed finger away from her, unbreaking in her gaze. She hated that he was right. Moira had nothing back home. As much as she resented the thought of being on a battlefield, it was better than the alternative.

 

The elevator slid to a pause and let out a soft ring. Moira pushed past Reyes leaving their heavy confines, but he remained in the elevator, looming at the threshold. 

 

“Is this going to be a problem, O’Deorain?”

 

She gazed over her shoulder, her face pinched with disgust. “No. For now.”


End file.
